HAPPY BIRTHDAYS
by Hey kid wanna see a dead body
Summary: <html><head></head>Blastmon tries to throw a party. Hilarity? ensues. Rated T because oh no there's some alcohol involved.</html>


"HEY, YOU KNOW WHAT?"

Lilithmon ignored the question. When it became clear that Blastmon wouldn't leave her alone until he'd unleashed his brain vomit on her, she gave him the most disinterested stare she could muster.

"I THINK I FIGURED OUT WHY TAC-CHAN'S ALWAYS SO GRUMPY." Blastmon paused, as if waiting for Lilithmon to suddenly gain interest. He didn't seem particularly discouraged by her silence however. "NO ONE EVER THROWS HIM A BIRTHDAY PARTY!"

Lilithmon's eyebrow raised before she knew it. "I thought it was just because he's a eunuch."

"TO BIRTHDAYS?"

"...What?"

"I'M A EUNUCH TO PEANUTS," said Blastmon plainly.

As if trying to shove the last two minutes from her brain, Lilithmon's hand collided with her forehead. "You've got to be-" She let the sentence die in her mouth, too busy trying to rescue the last of her sanity to form words. "Fine. Yes. You do that. Are we done here?"

"ARE YOU COMING?"

Lilithmon left the room as quickly as her legs could take her.

* * *

><p>Blastmon gave the room a quick scan, grinning proudly to himself when he decided his preparations were complete.<p>

The once dreary, oddly purple space was still dreary and purple, but with enough eye-catching decorations to encourage merriment. Hundreds of brightly coloured presents were piled unceremoniously on the floor, next to refreshments Blastmon had somehow managed to gather on his own. His several attempts to blow up balloons were cleverly hidden underneath the tables.

He was so busy admiring his handiwork that he didn't notice Tactimon slink up behind him until he finally spoke.

"What have you done?"

Blastmon jumped slightly. When realization finally sunk in, he spun around quickly and shouted, "HAPPY ALL YOUR BIRTHDAYS!" And then started blowing on a party horn as loudly as possible.

Tactimon sighed inwardly. Every time he thought he was used to Blastmon being... Blastmon, the head officer found new ways to confuse him.

Oblivious to his friend's exasperation, Blastmon continued cheerfully, "HAVE A HAT." He barely avoided crushing the party hat in his gigantic hands before shoving it on Tactimon's horn.

Deciding that going along with this presumably harmless event would be better than upsetting Blastmon, Tactimon surveyed the room. He picked up one of the many presents and began unwrapping it, Blastmon peering eagerly over his shoulder.

"...Are they _all_ diamonds?" Tactimon asked as he peered at the shining gem poking out from the wrapping paper, though he was sure he already knew the answer.

Blastmon shifted his eyes from side to side nervously, before throwing his arms in the air and blowing on the party horn again with wanton abandon.

Setting the present gingerly back on the precarious mountain of gifts, Tactimon tried to remind himself that Blastmon had his own, stupid way of caring.

"TAC-CHAN," He beckoned, pulling at Tactimon's cape like a child at his mother's dress. "YOU GOTTA HAVE SOME PUNCH. I MADE IT."

Tactimon directed his gaze to the punch bowl, then turned to look Blastmon in the eye. This cycle continued for a few moments as he expected Blastmon to catch on. He only continued to grin back vacantly however, so Tactimon slowly explained, "I don't have a mouth."

This seemed to come as a shocking revelation to Blastmon, who stared at him wide-eyed and slack-jawed. For all Tactimon knew, it really was.

"AND AFTER I WENT THROUGH ALL THE TROUBLE OF SPIKING IT," Blastmon sighed, expression turning into the epitome of disappointment. "I GUESS THAT MEANS YOU CAN'T HAVE ANY CAKE, EITHER."

Tactimon eyed the cake. Normally this development might have disappointed him slightly, but there was also something about the cake that seemed inexplicably wrong. It looked decent enough, not unlike any other cake he'd seen. But it was as if below the surface of slightly sloppy icing was something unspeakably horrific, just waiting to be inflicted upon someone.

"Did you make the cake too?" He asked.

Blastmon nodded gloomily.

Well, that explained it.

"OH, I GET IT!" Apparently forgetting that he was depressed, Blastmon turned to Tactimon with renewed vigour. "THAT'S WHY YOU DON'T HAVE PARTIES!"

"Actually-"

"SILLY LILI-TAN THOUGHT YOU WERE JUST A EUNUCH!"

"_What?_" Tactimon turned his head from the cake so quickly that Blastmon was worried he might get whiplash. "...Are you sure you heard her correctly?" Blastmon nodded. "And that was exactly what she said." Blastmon nodded again.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Blastmon blew at his party horn once again to break the silence.

This seemed to bring Tactimon out of any thoughts he was entertaining. "It's too bad she couldn't make it for the party. Since I won't be partaking in any of this cake of yours, why don't we let Lilithmon have it?" He paused thoughtfully. "However, she might feel guilty about having the cake all to herself if she knows you made it, so why don't you just tell her it came from the Sweets Zone?"

Blastmon lit up at the idea, letting the party horn fall to the floor in his excitement. "YOU'RE A GENIUS, TAC-CHAN!" After a few more moments of giddiness, he suddenly noticed the loss of his glorious noise machine, and bent down to retrieve it.

"You shouldn't put that back in your mouth," Tactimon chided halfheartedly.

Blastmon pouted, but left the toy where it was anyway. He forgot about it soon enough, instead moving on to the next item of his agenda.

He gripped a metal bat in his hand, though where he found such a large one would most likely remain a mystery. "SO I FIGURED, WHAT'S A PARTY WITHOUT A PIÑATA, RIGHT?" He pointed up at Damemon, who was hanging by a rope from the ceiling. "BUT I COULDN'T FIND A REAL ONE, SO I HAD TO IMPROVISE."

"So that's what it's doing up there," Tactimon said, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he watched the creature flail desperately against its bounds.

"UH HUH. I HAD A BLINDFOLD TOO, BUT I HAD TO SHOVE IT IN THAT THING'S MOUTH SO IT WOULD SHUT UP."

"That's fine. Just hand me the bat," Tactimon said, extending his hand as he spoke.

* * *

><p>Tactimon huffed in frustration as he rescued Blastmon from drowning face-first in the punch bowl once again. Trying to keep him from accidentally killing himself was hard enough when he was sober. Tactimon could at least find solace in the fact that the other head officer drunk himself straight into passing out. He wasn't sure he could handle Blastmon being any more... boisterous.<p>

Content that his companion was no longer in any immediate danger, or causing it, Tactimon analyzed the mess that was once a "party". All of the presents had been eaten long ago, which left the wrapping paper strewn about in every direction. And he wasn't sure how he was going to get that bat removed from its place in the wall without making the hole worse.

All things considered, it could have been worse. It certainly wasn't _perfect_, but hardly any of Blastmon's ideas were. Accepting that fact was an important part of knowing him.

Tactimon obviously wouldn't be doing the cleaning himself, so there was really only one loose end to tie up. And it didn't seem like Blastmon was going to be much help at that point.

"You."

Damemon stalled in its tracks. Apparently staying quiet wasn't enough to earn an escape. It turned and glared defiantly.

"You have a job to do."

* * *

><p>"Hmph! I guess this goes to show what those idiots know, saying I have no taste," Lilithmon drawled out happily. "You're just the most darling little thing, aren't you? To think you'd run off all the way to the Sweets Zone for me..."<p>

"No good! They're just no good at all! No good!"

Lilithmon scrutinized the cake one final time. "This can't be good for my figure but... I suppose it couldn't hurt just this once, right?"


End file.
